


Something To Believe In

by skipper



Category: Jonas Brothers
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Fiction, Original Fiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:40:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22165795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skipper/pseuds/skipper
Summary: Watched my life pass me byIn the rearview mirrorPictures frozen in timeAre becoming clearerI don't wanna waste another dayStuck in the shadow of my mistakes.(Robbins, Lindy; Cates, Jess Clayton; Kiriakou, Emanuel S; Lachey, Nick)In the matter of seconds, three lives changed forever. In those seconds a life was lost, a love evaporated, leaving everyone in its wake devastatingly alone.
Relationships: Danielle Jonas/Kevin Jonas, Joe Jonas/Original Female Character(s), Nick Jonas/Original Female Character(s)





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I'm reposting some Jonas fics, so hopefully, you like the changes and edits that I'm making. Feedback is appreciated. Thanks.

_He was walking outside when he first saw her. Grocery shopping he believes, but like many of life’s little mysteries that part tends to grow fabricated. There was a constant bustle when he left the establishment, the pouring rain causing a mini panic as patrons rushed to their cars. However, not for him, he had no reason to rush, never did._

_That’s when he saw her; his breath caught, heart raced, the entire world stopped as he faded into the very sight. She spun with arms spread; head back, mouth open wide, and an infectious smile graced her lips, and he smiled in return. The rain continued to fall in thick sheets but his senses remained trained only to her, especially as he heard the echo of her laughter fill his ears. The smooth, melodic sound reverberated through his body, shocking him to his very core._

_At that moment, he knew; it was a sound he would spend the rest of his life attempting to recreate, a sound that truly completed him._


	2. Zero

Life is one of those things. It could never remain constant, the plans and emotions always move, the world revolving even if you aren’t. Life, it can be expressed in a number of ways, each day changing from the last, every morning separate from the evening. It could be conveyed with joy; happiness, smiles and laughter that leaves you aching for more.

It could also be filled with immeasurable pain. You’re left gasping for breath as the most unforeseen of circumstances occur. It’s in those moments that life seems to count the most, all depending on what you decide. It’s up to you, you supply the needed comfort, the support, or the damage already done, tearing you apart from the inside out. These moments separate you, from you.

In these series of choices, it plagued him on that cool October night. A day they would always remember and he would eventually come to regret. He stood across the room as she lay back on the stiff bed, barely listening to the man explaining it to them. The truth, he repeated among lingering cries heard outside the door.

The words shocked them, broke them, left them gasping for the lost breath. Her tears began to fall once again and he didn’t react, he couldn’t. He didn’t understand what was going on, how this even happened, and most of all, why to them. He fought against each of his emotions, leaving her all alone when he was feet away, watching, and inevitably, letting her fall.

In the days after, the deterioration began; she fell apart, slowly breaking down as he moved further away. Until one day, he couldn’t even recognize himself. Each day still passed, the world continued to revolve, their lives slowly resuming a broken order. They went to work, came home, ate dinner, and went to bed, each day the same without fail.

As the tensions arose, the arguments began. She found the seat he left up, and he burned his hand on her straightener… this thing or that, it was always wrong, never to be right. Nothing was ever resolved, each put off for another day that never happened, waiting for the conversations that never existed, until all communications ceased. It was an accumulation of errors but neither recognized the effects until long after it was too late, and by then, it was beyond fixing.

The two quickly developed a façade, able to pass the persona of a perfect marriage, as if hardly affected by the loss. The others around them, their friends, and her parents were none the wiser, often commenting on their strength, their ability to overcome. After a few months, they began to fail even more.

The holidays continued to approach, much to their dismay. The celebrations were only a reminder of what never was, what never could be, not anymore. They had to take a plane, a preplanned visit to his family, and for just three days, they had to pretend.

As quickly as it had began, the wall fell, revealing all that they had been internally fighting. One late night argument turned into two, then three. Each fault began to overwhelm them, growing until there was nothing left to reveal, nothing left to expose. Every word reverberated through the house, signaling to everyone how they’d been struggling and barely hanging on.

It wasn’t until later that Joe understood that they’d heard, they’d seen, but no one spoke of it, letting another wedge slide between the couple. After the weekend, when they were home once again, things began to form back into a firm routine. Though, this one without words. The arguments faded as their lives separated, each day pushing them further apart, as though a relationship had never existed at all.

Life’s funny that way. It throws you for loops and turns, much as he continued to discover.

His little brother’s wedding was coming. It had been approaching for months but like so many things, shoved away in the back of his mind to be forgotten. He’d learned, as the day neared, that she’d already booked the tickets, as though she’d known he would forget.

He never admitted to it, but simply accepted the itinerary wordlessly, and once again, neither spoke of it at all. Upon reading the typed page, she had everything in order; they had their routine perfected from the months of practice.

It was just eleven days. Only eleven days to hide from his family. Eleven days to uphold the image. And eleven days to pretend they’d never failed before.

Nevertheless, once again, he learned that things don’t always go as planned. Even the most perfected of behaviors fall. Being around the ones that love you the most, as they soon discovered, holds the power to bring out both the best and worst of emotions.

There are things that will always cause the past to haunt you, the hurtful words spoken never linger as much as the significant ones left unsaid. Sometimes those ruthless words need be spoken, the truth has to be heard despite how painful, or how many broken wounds it might open.

In those eleven days, their lies were revealed, leaving them utterly exposed. They remained breathless, choking on the air that had left them that October night. However, in the end, sometimes salt cannot clean; the scars etched too deep, the pain too great, leaving you only to accept defeat.

It’s these moments that a second choice arises, one that will decide your fate and the rest of your life. He didn’t understand the impact, however, until much later. He didn’t know if it would be for the better or the worse, right or wrong. He only knew it could leave him with the chance for happiness, or forever wedged in utter despair.


	3. Day One

Joe sat in the chair, crossword in hand, her classical music filling the air from the next room where she usually worked. He noted that the music had lowered but made no move to ask why, filling in forty-two down as the answer came to him.

The silence that followed the music’s abrupt end was stifling but Joe had grown too used to it, so much so that he sometimes didn’t notice. This time, however, he lowered the paper, and it was hard not to feel the shift and knew she had moved. He jumped slightly as she spoke from the following room, not having expected the sound.

“Joe,” Audrey called, “It’s time to go.” He lifted his head as she entered the room, not speaking as he glanced in her direction. Confused by her formal attire, Joe furrowed his brow. She stood with her hands on her hips as she stared at him knowingly, “Why aren’t you ready?”

“What are we doing?” he asked, staring in bewilderment. She threw her hands up in the air, her eyes hardening as he continued to sit.

“Are you kidding me?” she cried out. He shook his head, cowering slightly but he couldn’t remember for the life of him what she was referring to, “Dinner with my parents.”

“Oh,” he gasped, a sense of realization hitting him, remembering it was Wednesday. He set the paper and pencil on the table beside him and stood, “O-okay, let me get changed.”

She sighed and put her coat on as he rushed out of the room. When he returned a few minutes later, she was leaning against the wall with her arms crossed and he could recognize her mixed emotions through her hardened stance.

“You ready?” she asked, her voice softening slightly, and he nodded. He could see the exhaustion in her eyes, but he made no move to appease it. He never did anymore as it wouldn’t change anything.

The drive was quiet, but it wasn’t a comfortable silence. Like the many nights preceding this one, it was filled with the unanswered questions and lingering doubts. Her hand remained at her side and although he saw it, he made no move to reach for it. It almost surprised him that he’d even thought to hold it.

No movements were made to rub his thumb over her knuckles, a gesture that once calmed them both. Instead, they sat, his eyes focused on the damp road and hers out the opposite window. He knew she was mentally preparing for their weekly façade, much as he always did.

“We’re here,” Joe said, the sound startling through the tense silence. It was a pointless comment, considering she’d grown up in this house, but he’d said it anyway. Audrey remained seated for several seconds before he spoke, she began to nod, exiting the car before he did. He walked slowly around the car, realizing he’d forgotten to open her door and breathed a deep sigh as he reached for her hand. It was a Wednesday routine, one they’d followed for the past few years, but it never eased the lingering discomfort he now felt on these evenings.

They each forced their mouths into a smiling formation, their hands interlocked, and bodies closer than usual, an act they’d perfected through the course of the last months. He listened to her release a breath as they approached the front porch. Her mother opened the door as they approached, always ready and waiting to greet them.

“Audriana!” her mother called, and he saw an honest smile come to his wife’s face. They stepped through the door and he stepped back as his wife embraced her mother, their arms held tight around each other. It was the most affection they’d show throughout the course of the evening. It was something that had once shocked him, but now, it seemed normal.

Joe took the time to slip his shoes off, aware to keep dirt from falling onto the carpet a few feet away. He slipped his jacket from his arms and hung it on the guest's hook beside the door. “Joseph,” he turned in time for his mother-in-law to greet him with a kiss on the cheek.

“Mary,” he smiled. He watched the older woman step forward and grabbing her daughter’s hand before the three entered the dining room, where the food was already waiting. Joe followed a few paces behind until he sat beside his wife on their side of the table.

“Joseph,” his father-in-law greeted. He stood shaking the older man’s hand before resuming his seat. He knew to let Mary serve the group. Though raised in an opposite fashion, he’d grown used to it after all this time. Once served, his father-in-law nodded, and Joe dug in, the smell having set off his hunger.

After a few minutes, a conversation ensued, and Joe slowed his eating, listening to his wife speak to her mother. Her father, like him, remained silent, though he interrupted with his own comments every few moments while Joe stayed quiet. A part of Joe missed this side of Audrey; it was a side that wasn’t putting on a face, but just his Audrey, whoever that was anymore.

He listened as she continued to describe the current happenings at her job, his eyes widening slightly when she explained a recent promotion that he knew nothing about. Joe felt his appetite fade as the talk continued, and slowly pushed the plate towards the middle of the table when her father did.

After dinner, the four moved themselves to the living room, where the radio was already playing in the corner. They had no television, instead playin ofg their old Nat King Cole records in the background, and Mary would flip it over when the time came. He watched as Timothy grabbed Mary’s hand to lower her to the seat as Joe moved to sit beside his wife, the inches indicative the miles that continued to separate them.

As the evening progressed, he felt himself leaner further and further into the seat, not needing to speak. The conversation didn’t turn to him. It never did, though it hadn’t bothered him until now, as his wife’s promotion lingered in his mind.

Joe tried to listen, to think of something to say, but it all seemed useless. Her father wasn’t speaking, his snores resonating shortly after sitting. They paid no mind; it was just like every week before. By the time his mother in law mentioned she was tired, it felt years later to Joe, who was more than ready for the departure.

They left without waking her father, though Joe glanced to see Audrey pat his leg before they moved towards the front door. He stood back as she and her mother passed a few finals words, lingering longer than usual, and Joe began to wonder why.

He embraced Mary when she stepped forward and offered a smile before slipping on his shoes and coat. With a final word, he followed where Audrey had already exited the house. Mary stood on the porch watching as they left, and Joe could see her hand in the air until she was only a speck of dust in the distance.

“Did you pack already?” Audrey asked as the entered their front door. Joe shook his head and sh,e immediately scoffed, and he knew without looking that she was rolling her eyes. He rubbed a hand over his face as he put his coat away with the other, holding in the urge to groan. He was unable to speak his mind, hardly remembering what the notion even felt like when she was like this.

“I’ll pack in the morning,” he hissed, despite his want to let it go. She glanced in his direction before nodding and he, knew it was over. He watched her move towards their bedroom, and he followed quietly behind. They roamed around the room silently, each finishing their own nighttime routines before they would inevitably climb into bed at separate times.

He took his time, searching for his bag to pack in the morning. After several minutes of searching at the top of the closet, he glanced around and his gaze fell towards the corner of the room, where he spotted his bags packed for their trip. He sighed in frustration. She didn’t do it to be nice and considerate. She did it because she knew he’d forget, and, truthfully, he had.

Joe finally slid into the bed, his back away from her as he opened his book to the marked page, trying to lose himself in the words. He could hear her lengthened sigh from behind him and he, closed his eyes tight, waiting for something. He was sure to find out soon.

“Turn off the light,” she said after another minute of sighing. Joe inwardly groaned but put down his book, carefully marking the page before setting it back on his nightstand.

With darkness filling the room, Joe lay in the bed, his back towards her and no words were spoken. After nearly an hour, and several sleeping attempts, Joe was aware she was still awake by the sound of her breathing.

“I didn’t know you’d been promoted,” he said softly. It wasn’t an accusation, but a simple comment. He didn’t usually speak of these things, but he couldn’t stop himself from bring it up.

“I know,” Audrey responded slowly. Silence settled and it was several minutes before she broke it, “It just happened last week.” Joe nodded to himself, fully aware she couldn’t see before letting out a deep breath. He stared at the ceiling, having a need to fill the deafening silence but unsure how.

“What time is our flight tomorrow?” he asked, for lack of anything better to say. She sighed and he knew she was frustrated, most likely having told him all this before.

“Three,” she informed him. “We’ll leave around noon.” With that, he released a soft puff of air, listening to the sound of her breaths as they slowed into a smooth rhythm. He lay for a long time, staring into the darkness before he finally followed suit, though his sleep was neither peaceful nor fulfilling. It never was, but he was almost used to that now. 

The following morning began like most of their days, the only exception was not having to leave for work. Audrey spent her time outside the bedroom while Joe remained inside, randomly going through the items she’d already packed; unsurprised that he didn’t need to add anything.

Although he finished long before, Joe didn’t exit the room until it was time to leave. He held his suitcase firm in his hand. He looked at her for a moment and sh,e gave him a small nod. Once she’d taped up the note to the house sitter, they wordlessly locked up the house and went out to the car.

Their venture to the airport and following was done in the same, lifeless routine that began months before. They were both silent, awkward, lost in the words that could not be spoken. The flight was much like their marriage had become, boring and filled with the deafening silence as he tried to consider what the next two weeks would bring. Joe sat staring out the window; the book he’d brought left unread in the bottom of his bag and he, made no move to grab it, despite needing the distraction.

Audrey sat beside him, though he didn’t look in her direction. His nerves grew as their destination neared, but it had little to do with her, instead he considered what might await them.

They hadn’t been back to his home since the previous Christmas, and he’d spent the last seven months lying to his mother, assuring her they were perfect now. Now on his way to see his younger brother marry his high school sweetheart, Ryan, Joe couldn’t help but envy the way he spoke of her in recent weeks. It was reminiscent of how he and Audrey had once been, and that was more painful than he cared to admit, even to himself.

Nick and Ryan been together for eight years and were finally tying the knot, now that they were both freshly graduated from college. He hadn’t been able to attend the ceremony due to his work schedule, and despite his inhibitions, nothing was keeping him from watching his brother get married.

Joe’s elder brother, Kevin, had been with his wife for nearly five years, and married for four of them. Joe knew they’d been perfectly happy all those years. Nothing had gone seriously wrong, nothing had happened to tear them apart, and, it seemed, that nothing would. They were truly happy and still desperately in love, a notion Joe didn’t understand anymore. Blessed with one daughter, Gaby, Kevin and Danielle had a second child on the way, due in the fall.

Joe could remember when they had been initially been introduced, and despite the blind date gone bad, they had been inseparable ever since. He’d shaken his head when they found a home just minutes from their parents’ house, but where Joe had found his mother’s attentiveness overbearing, Kevin always found it endearing.

His one relief from coming home was that his parents still lived in his childhood home in Maine. The memories were one thing Joe loved coming back to. The house, the pictures, the entire mood was the same as when he was a child when everything was simple and easy.

There was no heartbreak, nothing stolen away at the worst possible moment. Nobody shook their head before walking away, as though they could hide from the pain that he could not. His childhood home reminded him of all he’d lost, but at the same time, the possibilities he’d once believed. 

With a deep sigh, Joe forced himself to think of the coming wedding. They were both as happy as could be. Nick and Ryan found themselves a house near his new job, roughly twenty minutes away from their hometown.

It wasn’t a surprise that Joe had been the only one to move away. He’d found himself in the Midwest only a few months after graduation, which is where he’d met Audrey. It’d been an accident really; he’d been lost and looking for directions, while she was a free loving college student dancing in the rain. It was a memory that once made him smile, but now only filled him with regret.

“Joseph,” he jumped at the sound of his wife’s voice, turning his head slowly. “We’re about to get off the plane.”

“Okay,” he said softly. He lifted the cover on his window to see that they had indeed landed, and he could already spot the familiar buildings in the distance. Once he heard the announcement overhead, Joe stood, stretching wildly while Audrey stood tapping her foot, impatiently waiting for him to finish.

He followed behind her, watching as she walked with her head held high, as though she was still as sure of herself as the day he’d met her. She’d never questioned anything, everything just was, and she was content with it. It wasn’t until that night that changed everything and his Audrey along with it.

Sometimes when she wasn’t looking, Joe would watch her and remember how it once was and how they once were together. What they shared revolved around Audrey and all she’d been. He was always the puppy lost in the exuberance of her splendor. At the end of the day, that’s all he had ever been and all that it left behind were the memories of what once was.

“Who’s meeting us?” Audrey asked as they approached security. Joe shrugged, pulling his phone from his pocket, reading the missed messages.

“Kevin and Gaby,” he answered quietly, once again questioning the decision to come out there. The very the mention of them had him inwardly cringing, but he knew it wasn’t their fault.

Joe glanced in Audrey’s direction as they both heaved a sigh, understanding her thoughts, one of the few he did. As they neared the exit, Joe slowed, his eyes looking straight ahead as they passed the more familiar sights of the airport. They rounded the long corner, finally moving past the security gates, and towards the wide hall that held his family members. 

As they came into view, they could already hear Gaby chanting their name, her words echoing across the walls. Joe smiled at the sight of his two-year-old niece, so happy, so much life in her, so excited to see someone she barely knew.

“Joe,” Kevin spoke warmly as they approached, pulling his younger brother in for a firm hug. “It’s been too long.” Joe nodded as he stepped back allowing Kevin to embrace Audrey as well. Gaby reached for them and each received a hug from the tiny girl as she giggled in delight.

“We just have two bags,” Joe let Kevin know as they approached the claim. Kevin nodded and stepped back with Audrey, allowing Joe to move forward as he waited for the bags to come around.

Joe could his hear his brother making her to laugh without looking, recognizing the sound that had once sent shivers of happiness through him. But now he sighed at the sound, knowing it wasn’t real. Audrey didn’t laugh anymore, not as she used to. It was just another thing they’d lost over the course of the last year.

After he’d grabbed the bags and slung them over his shoulder, Joe followed along as Kevin led them to his car, Gaby firm on his hip. As Joe approached, he recognized the familiar family car he’d purchased when Danielle had become pregnant with the small child, a notion that Joe had honored once as well.

Kevin stood back with Joe to put the bags in the trunk while Audrey buckled Gaby in her seat, but he moved to the passenger door before Kevin could utter a word. Joe knew he wanted to know how they were doing, but how could he answer his brother, once his best friend, when he didn’t understand it himself.

“Just wait until you see Nick,” Kevin laughed, breaking the awkward silence in the car. “You know what they say about the bridezillas, but Ryan is definitely the calm one.”

“I’m not surprised,” Joe laughed lightly, glancing towards Audrey in the backseat with Gaby. It broke his heart to see her interacting with the child, an honest but sad smile on her face.

“Yeah,” Kevin continued breaking Joe of his trance. “Ryan’s always been the level-headed side of Nick, and this is certainly no different.”

“I know,” Joe responded wistfully. “I just can’t believe they’re finally getting married. Nick was what, seventeen, when he proposed.”

“I think so,” Kevin thought for a moment. “I’m glad they waited to finish college though, it’ll be good for them.”

“Yeah,” Joe nodded, glancing to the backseat again. Audrey was still talking to Gaby, but he knew she was listening to every word of their conversation. Joe moved his eyes towards the window, his mind distancing as Kevin began to discuss the ins and outs of marriage, as though he’d actually had to face them.

“There’s so much more to marriage than they realize,” Kevin continued. “But I think they can make it for the long haul.”

“Let’s hope so,” Joe said after a while, his eyes staring at the passenger window, but the sights blurred with his thoughts. He could feel his brother’s gaze but didn’t dare to respond, not right now with Audrey listening.

Once again, the vehicle was filled with awkward tension, and the rest of the half-hour drive was silent. Joe knew Kevin was aching to fix it, but Joe had grown so used to the feeling, he no longer attempted. He only released a soft sigh as Kevin pulled into the driveway, glancing towards his older brother as he put it in park.

“You want help with your bags?” Kevin asked as he removed the keys from the ignition. Joe shook his head before they got out of the car. He watched Kevin move to the backseat, unbuckling his now sleeping daughter from her seat. It was with a resigned sigh that he finally went to the trunk to remove their bags, listening when Kevin spoke up, “Okay, well mom’s got you two up in your old room.”

“Thanks,” Joe said, nodding as he shut the trunk. He could see Audrey looking at him, but didn’t acknowledge the gaze, not right now when he knew others were watching. He eventually nodded in her direction and they stepped forward wordlessly, falling in step. Their few seconds of silence only reminded him how long the next days were going to be, and for the first time in a long while, wished he could appease it.

“Joseph,” he smiled at the sound of his mother’s voice, heard before they’d even entered the home. As he stepped inside, her arms were tight around him, pulling him against her, “Joseph, my baby.”

“I thought Nicky Poo was your baby,” Joseph smirked, falling into a familiar sort of character as he saw his younger brother standing a few feet behind their mother. Nick rolled his eyes, flipping him off, obviously trying to hurry before their mother could turn and see.

“No,” his mother sighed. She turned and stared at Nick pointedly, “I can see that finger Nicholas. You forget the window has a reflection.” Nick blushed as the group laughed, his mother turning back towards Joe, “You have no idea how excited I am at the prospect of him leaving the house for good.”

“Hey,” Nick called out. “You’re gonna miss me when I’m gone.” Their mother rolled her eyes before she moved from Joe to Audrey, who continued to stand awkwardly behind him.

Joe sighed deeply, she’d always felt this way, having grown up an only child. He’d always been the one to make her feel included, and now he could only watch because he truly didn’t know how anymore.

“You want pizza for dinner?” Nick spoke up, shaking him from his thoughts. Joe nodded as he took a quick glance at Audrey, who seemed to be having an in-depth discussion with his mother. He wanted to listen in on the conversation, but finally trudged forward, leaving them in the entryway to carry their bags up the stairs towards his old bedroom.

Joe took a deep breath as he entered, staring around at the familiar sights. There were the pictures on the wall, some the same, some different, the bed, his old dresser. It was as though he’d stepped into a time machine, but a comfortable one, one that gave him the urge to smile at the feeling.

He stood for several seconds, just breathing it in, before he walked towards the bed, perfectly made, undoubtedly with fresh sheets. He set the bags on the bed and reached to unzip a side pocket. He rummaged through it aimlessly, but he had to do something, even if he didn’t know what that was.

“You okay?” Joe glanced over his shoulder to see Kevin standing in the doorway. Joe lifted his head slowly, staring for a few seconds before resuming his gaze at his hands as he looked through the bag. With a frustrated groan, he sat on the side and just let himself fall back into the comforter, hoping to find some sort of validation in the thick cotton.

“Yeah,” Joe answered finally, ignoring his brother’s scrutiny. “Just tired, I suppose.” He let out a deep breath and roughly rubbed his hands across his face, trying to relax, but it was to no avail. There was no such thing as relaxing anymore. Deep down, he didn’t even understand the term, it’d become lost in him like so many things.

“That’s not what I meant,” Kevin said finally, and Joe lifted his head, his gaze hardening at the look on Kevin’s face, “And you know that.” Joe watched Kevin leave and groaned loud enough that it echoed through the room; his frustration only grew as the seconds and, eventual, minutes passed.

“Pizza’s here,” Joe looked up to see Audrey leaning against the doorframe watching him.

By her stance, he assumed she must’ve been there for a few minutes, but her face didn’t hold the expected anger. His eyes locked with hers and he could only see the never-ending sadness that filled her eyes, an emotion that caused him to drop his gaze far too quickly.

“Okay,” he responded, slowly sitting himself up. Joe watched her nod and she left her place in the doorway before he had a chance to say another word, not that he would’ve.

By the time Joe began to make his way down the stairs, he could hear dinner already in full swing; the squeals of Gaby, a mixture of a whine and laughter as she begged for food, followed by the scolds of Danielle. He could hear Nick yelling at someone, and as another round of laughter ensued, Joe knew Ryan was the culprit. So many sounds, so much laughter, and he could smile but knew one voice was missing amongst it all. Audrey.

Before entering, he focused on the sound of his parents, their voices of pure joy and contentment with their large family were undeniable, and Gaby. As her laughter resonated throughout the room a second time, Joe had to close his eyes, forcing out the noise to keep from losing his breath. 

After the voices softened slightly, Joe entered the kitchen from the side, taking in the sights before making his presence known. He looked to see that Audrey had found herself a chair on the side, and was, unsurprisingly, eating alone. Her brow furrowed, though her eyes remained on the group, and it caused Joe’s chest to tighten. It was his job to appease it, but it was just another thing he couldn’t do, even if he did begin to try.

When her gaze shifted and she turned to look at him, his first instinct was to look away. He felt frozen in his place. It was gone as quickly as it came, her eyes were no longer on him, instead to her plate, where she picked at the pizza. Joe knew she’d never liked it much, a notion he only just recalled.

With a final deep breath, Joe walked towards the kitchen, making his presence known as he wordlessly grabbed himself a few slices of pizza. After a few moments of contemplation, he found himself a seat on the same couch as Audrey, though she didn’t acknowledge his presence nor he hers.

When he saw Kevin look toward him, Joe immediately reached for Audrey’s hand out of practice, and she responded, curling her fingers with his as she gave him a small nod. With his hand still in hers, Joe ignored the distinct clamming sensation and focused his attention on the conversations going on around him.

He listened as they spoke of his father’s Day at work, what Ryan and Danielle purchased while shopping, and it was all mixed with Kevin and Nick’s smart-assed responses. All the while, he and Audrey sat back, lost in another world where they didn’t exist, almost as if they never had.

After everyone finished eating, Joe stacked his and Audrey’s plates together before throwing them in the nearby trash can. It was nearly full, and he thought of taking it out, but knew his mother would be enlisting Nick’s help before too long. It was one of the advantages of being a guest in the house. Joe stood against the counter before his gaze moved to Audrey, where she still sat at the couch. She’d glanced at him but there was no point to acknowledge it.

They both leaned back in their positions across the room, their eyes watching the rest of the family, though Joe still felt his attention moving to her. He knew how she was feeling, he felt much the same but had no way to soothe her pain, release her aches, make her happy once again. In all honesty, he didn’t know if that world even existed anymore, or to start, where to find it.

He knew he should focus on his family, having realized already how much he’d missed being around them. With nearly eight months passing since their last trip out for Christmas, he could see how much time had truly passed. A part of Joe wondered if it ever could be happy again, but it was too much of a reminder, a symbol of what he could never forget.

When they’d come at Christmas, he and Audrey had already been struggling at that point, though the family hardly noticed. It’d been easier to keep up the presence then, less had separated them as they’d been simply arguing. It was odd to think about how much he ached for the silence then, and now he’d do anything to get rid of it.

Audrey stood after a while, her eyes locking briefly with Joe’s, but he could only watch her leave, his gaze on the empty trail that signified her departure. By how she moved, Joe knew she was as tired as he was, and, in many ways, too emotionally and physically exhausted, no longer able to uphold the image. He knew they were failing, but didn’t have the urge to fight it, because he wasn’t even sure what was left to fight.

He felt the looks, heard the whispers, and knew it was only a matter of time before the questions began, yet he still didn’t have any answers. He continued to stare where she’d left the room, wondering, remembering how happy they’d once been. The perfect couple so many had said, and now it was gone. He knew now why he rarely came back to this house, too many damn reminders of what he could never get back, of what he never had.

Without saying goodbye, or even a goodnight, Joe sauntered up to his old bedroom, the door already closed where Audrey was sure to be lying down. He lingered outside the door to stare around the house, his eyes over the balcony, eyeing the very place he’d proposed two Christmas Eve’s ago.

They’d woken just after midnight, and instead of allowing her to give him his gift, he’d dropped to his knee. He’d asked her to pull an ornament from the tree, the box holding her ring, and she’d squealed before he could even ask. With her arms around him that night, he felt free, like everything was right in the world, nothing could go wrong, and for forever, she would be all he needed.

When Joe finally slipped inside the door, he sighed at the sight of her facing away from where he stood, a sure sign she was still awake. He softly closed the door behind him and stepped towards the bag on the floor, surprised to see it already open and clothes shoved aside.

Joe merely shrugged and slipped off his pants and shirt, letting them fall to the side before climbing to bed in his boxers. The July heat made it too hot for pajamas. Audrey was still facing the wall as he lay on his side of the bed, the left side, once a running joke, now a burden, another reminder of what once was. He looked over at her as he slid his head to his pillow, realizing why his bag was open and resisted the urge to smile.

As the minutes turned to hours, Joe struggled to keep his eyes away from her and the sight of her sleeping in his shirt, the fabric bundled between her fists as she slept. She’d turned towards him in the course of her sleep, her bare toes brushing against his calves, but he didn’t push the touch away as he might have a few nights ago. It’d been a long time since he’d witnessed the sight, her lying so close to him, because she was always so hardened, even in the dead of the night.

Though this night, it was hardly unwelcome, he was unable to name the surge of emotions it brought, emotions he hadn’t felt in much too long. Joe sat up for a long time, leaning his head against the headboard, his eyes trained on her. She looked remotely peaceful, but her body was still tense and stiff. The reasons why force him to close his eyes and look away, the only thing he knew how to do.


End file.
